


My Prime

by Turboburst



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Sensory Deprivation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turboburst/pseuds/Turboburst
Summary: Sometimes the stress of being Co-Captain takes its toll and stress must be relieved in some way.  But sometimes the best way is for those that are in a position of control to just give up control.  Rodimus needs to let off some steam, and what better way to let off some steam then with Decepticon Turboburst.  She may be small, but she is fierce.  And Rodimus is not her first or only client, nor will he be her last.





	My Prime

“Atta mech.  There you go, on your knees.  You know the deal right?  Anything ever becomes too much, you use our private comm.  Understand?” the mech before me nodding their head up and down slowly, cautiously, clearly testing what was and wasn’t acceptable.  He should know by now, this is not his first ride with me. “I’m going to add the finishing touches.  I’m going to block your audials now.  Do you understand?” his head once again nodding up and down just as cautiously as before. “If only you could see yourself as you are kneeled before me.  Such a beautiful picture you make.” _Click._ Magnetic  plugs in place.  Now there’s no shaking them loose.

:: Checking in, making sure that you have your side of this link open.  Respond appropriately :: a little bit of static and a quivering yes made it’s way over the comm link.  Excellent.  Now the fun can really begin.

“This might be uncomfortable, but you’ll thank me later for it.” Another click and a magnetic spike seal locked in place.  Keeping that lovely spike contained, no matter how much pressure mounts behind this faux seal.  The sad whine that escaped past the lips of the mech kneeled before me is music to my audials.  It’s noises like that that make me enjoy what I do to them.

“Now, now.  No complaining, we’ll turn those whines into moans before the night is over my dear.”  Moving away I needed to look at my wall, do I want to use a bit gag, a spider gag, an O-ring gag, ball gag what would look the prettiest against his stunning fiery paint job. “Mmmmmm… I’m thinking an O-ring this evening will look stunning in your mouth.  I simply cannot wait to see the puddle of lubricant and drool you’ll be sitting in by the time I’m finished with you.  Beautiful streaks of glowing fluorescent pink streaked all across your paint job.  What a beautiful sight that will be my dearest pet.”

A slow stalk back over to my prey for the night in the low lighting the bright red from my optics flashing off his flawlessly waxed form.  Such beautiful edges and angles, transformation seams that blend in flawlessly covering the protoform beneath the fiery armor.  If I hadn’t blocked his audials earlier I would be taking the extra measure to make sure that the clicking of my heels was extra apparent, but habit is habit and the metronome of my heels helps my focus remain ever forward on my target.

His field is alight with so many different emotions; terror, hunger, resistance, lust.  Such a beautiful Prime he is, fighting with himself to submit.  He wants this, no.  Needs this.  I’m the only one who can give him what he needs, that much is apparent with how often he comes crawling back to me for another session.  Time to relax, time to let go, time to forget that he’s a Prime and captain, no not captain.  Co-captain, of a ship hurdling through space on a condemned and frivolous journey to find fictional beings.  I am his escape, and escape he will.  At least until morning comes for him and his responsibilities come creeping through hazy processors.

I reach down to him, grabbing his chin and tilting it up to look at me.  This is a dance we’ve been through more times than can be counted on digits and he knows the drill.  His mouth open and wanting for whatever his mouth will contain for the time being.  The O-ring settles so nicely right behind his denta.  Such a perfect fit, not too big to dislocate his jaw and not too small his jaw won’t be sore by the time I take it out.  He dips his head back down to allow better access to secure the buckle behind his head making sure it doesn’t move or dislodge during our session.

I can’t help but step back now and admire what’s before me.  A Prime, my Prime.  Whoever would have imagined a Prime kneeling before a Decepticon.  What Decepticons wouldn’t give to be in my position, what they wouldn’t give to have the power and control that I hold over the beacon of light and hope to the Autobot cause.  But the war is over, while factions may still disagree this is truly a sight to behold.  One day, Primus granting, I’ll have a different Prime kneeling before me in complete surrender and submission.  Another trophy and testament to my power, but for now I will settle on this gorgeous individual kneeling before me.  How I will bend and contort his body with restraints, further humiliation bringing him to further submission at my will.

Cable, cable would be adequate and suitable.  Just rigid enough to keep him in whatever position I deem acceptable, but just enough give to not damage any precious circuitry and make sure that his energon lines don’t get crushed.  Three lengths of cable should be enough, two leg ladders and a dragonfly armbinder should be more then adequate and suffice for what’s needed this evening.  I can finish with a loop by his wrists to attach to the hook in my ceiling making him stationary, how beautiful he will look.

“Hmmmmmm, how lucky I am to call you my Prime.  But tonight it is not you in charge, tonight it is me my beautiful little Prime.”  However big he might be, in these moments he is smaller than me.  And normally I stand a good meter and a half shorter than he.

:: On your aft now.  Knees bent together:: I watched him obediently switch from being on the tips of his pedes to shifting back onto his aft.

:: Good boy, clasp your hands together behind your back:: him obediently removing his servos from his knees to behind his back bringing me such pleasure.  The heat behind my own interface panel growing steadily as I watch him comply.  On my knees myself to his right side I begin with the first piece of cable.  I need to find the middle first, once I have the middle of the cable everything is easier from there.

:: Do not budge:: my command to him is simple.  I will be pulling and tugging on the cable to make sure that it is flush and tight and there is no excuse for him falling over or losing balance.  Transferring the bite of the cable into my left hand I slowly wrap it around his ankle once, twice, three times.  Now I need to cross the bite and the free end, bite now pointing up towards his beautiful, dripping, valve and the free end pointing down towards his pede.  Wrap the free end around and under the bite to create a little keyhole.  Fitting two servos into the keyhole and under the fable wrapped around that gorgeous ankle of his.  If I had less restraint I wouldn’t hesitate to drag my glossa along those sharp angles and gorgeously powerful pedes.  I’m getting distracted again, I need to grab that bite.  Grab the bite, pull it through the keyhole and pull the free ends tight for a beautiful secure and flexible knot around that gorgeous ankle of his.

“How I lucked out with you, such a gorgeous, gorgeous frame you have here.  I cannot wait to make you beg for release.  Make you beg to please me, to pleasure me, to just melt into a puddle of want and need.” His soft breathing coupled with the steady dripping of drool from his mouth absolute music to my ears.  A soft grunt as I pull his ankle tightly against his thigh, a slow spiral of cable up his leg towards his bent knee.  Next I need to wrap the free end to create a comma knot at the wrap closest to his knee, making sure I pull the free ends down to create a comma knot at every loop down.  One, two, three, four, to the last wrap before feeding it underneath to continue the chain of comma knots up his inner thigh.  One, two, three, four, five and the final sixth wrap by his knee until I can lock it off and keep this binding on his right leg in place.  So far no movement from my stunning Prime.

A quick reach behind me finds the next piece of cable to use.  Shifting my weight enough to make sure that I can successfully reach the left side of his being before recreating what I made on the right side.  One, two, three, four, five, six.  Six wraps, I need to make sure that I keep it symmetrical.

:: One out of three bindings down my Prime, that means that there are two left to finish:: another whimper and splash of drool from the mech before me.

Once again with the bite of the cable in my left hand I carefully wrap the cable around his ankle three times.  From there I cross the bite and the free end once again making sure that the bite points up towards his empty valve and free end pointing towards his pede.  Once again wrap the free end around and under the bite to create another keyhole big enough to fit two of my servos.  Push my servos through that keyhole like I’ll be pushing them into that dripping valve soon enough, underneath the flat cable, and pull the bite through the keyhole while pulling the free end tight to lock that bite in place.  Pull his ankle tight and flush against his thigh once more to wrap the cable flat around his thigh and shin six times to match the right side of his body to his bent knee once more.  Comma knots at each wrap from his knee back down towards his dripping valve, underneath to the inside of his thigh again back up to his knee.

:: Such lewd dripping noises dearie.  What a beautiful mess you are for me.  How badly you must want me:: nothing but whining in response to me.  How well he has learned over our numerous lessons.  Yet still as a statue he remains, I just want him to move enough that will incur the slightest punishment.  A riding crop, an energon whip, an electric baton.  Something, anything.  Any reason to punish him in the slightest for any small egregious error he might make.  But still, how does he sit before me with not so much as a tremble.  That will change, it will have to change.

:: Back on your knees, Prime.  Make sure your legs are spread, I want full access to your valve when I desire access:: A slight pause as he figures out how to move in his new bindings.  He balances precariously on the tips of his pedes with his knees on the ground.  I watch as he slowly spreads his legs lewdly to reveal that beautifully lubricated valve bared for me to see.

The smell of lubricant now fully hits my olfactory sensors, if it’s hitting me as strongly as it is I know he can smell his own arousal.  His own submission.  The heat behind my own interface, my own spike wanting its own overload.  Wanting to be buried either within the soft mesh of his valve or down his beautifully soft throat.  I can’t get distracted, I still must finish binding him.  I’m not done yet.  I have one last bit of cable to bind to him.

Fishing around behind me I need to ignore the arousal steadily growing in my groin to attend to the task at hand.  He’s such an easy distraction, and such a fun time.  But I cannot lose focus, I need to focus on him and the cables.  Create another bite to create a Lark’s head right above the elbow joints.  Pull taught to draw the elbows together, warp the free end a few times around the upper arms up towards the shoulder. 

Make sure I stay above the Lark’s head, then thread the free end through the reverse bite, under the wrapped cable and between the elbows to create a nice taught cinched point.  Keep the free end pulling downwards, hold in place, pull to the right behind the arms around and feed it through the hold and wrap around once in the reverse direction to secure the binding.  Pull free end down, hold in place, pull to the right and wrap around behind the arms and through the hold point again, wrap in the reverse direction to secure.  Pull free end down, hold in place, pull to the right and warp around behind the arms and through the hold point again, wrap in the reverse direction to secure.  Repeat once more, bar wrap up, tie off to secure.

::Such a beautiful mech you are.  You look beautiful with the purple cable contrasting against your gorgeous fiery paint job.  What do you want, Prime.:: his whine letting me know everything he was interested in. 

::Do you want your valve filled dear Prime?  Do you want my spike?:: his demeanor breaking.  His statuesque figure bucked its hips before me.  Begging.  Pleading.

::You moved without permission Prime.  You know what that means.:: He had given me all the reason I need to punish him as I saw fit.  Rising to my pedes I needed to grab another length of cable to fasten one end to his wrists and the other to the hook in my ceiling.  This will keep him in place and uncomfortable.  A little squirming is always enjoyable.  I grabbed one last length of rope from my wall before stalking back over towards the kneeling Prime on my floor. 

I just need to hook one end around the bar wrap and then thread the other end through the hook on my ceiling and he’s immobilized and mine to do as I please.  A simple square knot around the bar wrap will hold it in place easily and successfully without any problem.  I need my step stool though.  Frag these tall ceilings.  Pulling a step stool out from the corner and dragging it over it’s these moments that I’m glad my prey is both deaf and blind and the moment.  Of course any sort of jabs would be further reason for a punishment.  Something to consider for the future.  Time to pull the end of the cable through the hook in my ceiling, step down, pull taught and pull his arms behind his back and up towards the ceiling.

::Do you get to let me know when or do I get to guess what your limits are?:: I continue to pull waiting for a response, but met with nothing but radio silence.  His pride is still insanely strong, that will have to break too eventually.  I just keep pulling until he squeaks out the smallest sound of protest from his vocalizer signifying his limit for the time being.  A steady dripping noise from either his valve or his mouth is echoing throughout the room, either location is acceptable.  A quick tie off secures his arms in their current predicament before I can stalk back in front of him and see him in all his bound glory.

How long will he sit there waiting.  How long until his whines and mewls beg for his release.  How long until he opens up that comm line and asks, no begs me to frag him into overload.  I could always start a timer, but what’s the fun in that?  I’ll just wait patiently, enjoy some energon while watching the show before me.  Watch his pride begin to melt before me until he’s mine to do as I please.  But that smell of lubricant is tantalizing for sure.  It would be so easy to enjoy that delicacy.

But no, I should restrain myself.  Make him beg for me one way or another.  I’m sure he would prefer my spike, but that’s something he will have to earn before he’s allowed to enjoy.  But his current position would make it easy to enjoy him from behind for sure, and his valve looks so inviting right now.

How long will you be able to hold this position dearest Prime.  You’ve already incurred one punishment, how many more will you accumulate throughout the night.  You look so perfect, like an artists masterpiece.  How would the rest of the crew react so seeing you now.  So submissive, so vulnerable, so lewd and wanting.  Chest out, lines of drool marking bright shining paths down that delicious paint job and sinful angles, in a humbling kneeling position with valve open and dripping lubricant.  Small spasms of hunger travelling through those hungry folds between powerful thighs.  Such a beautiful sight to behold before me.  I would easily sit back for cycles enjoying some beautifully aged engex.

A punishment was promised though, such a thoughtless infraction.  Such a simple order to be disobeyed, all I told you was to stay completely still and you couldn’t even handle that.  Oh my dear Prime, you need this.  No, want this, deserve this.  Such an infraction requires something simple and concise.

 _Click.  Click.  Click.  Click._ The sound of my heels on the unforgiving metal ground echoing throughout the room.  It’s easy to wander around the artwork contained to the center of my domain, every new angle is something to be appreciated and coveted.  But who am I to covet what is already mine.  A simple button on the far wall is easy to push down to open my lovely closet of tools and toys. 

Collars, no.  Leashes, no.  Handcuffs, no.  Blindfolds, already got one.  Striking impliements, yes. Floggers, no.  Whips, no.  Paddles, no.  Canes, no.  Rods, no.  Riding crop… yes.  Which one to use, steel enforced is always a good option.  Black, red, grey, purple, or green.  Which color do I want, I think I want purple today.  Purple is always a good option, black can be so basic at times. 

 _Thwack!_   It makes a good solid sounding hit, of course my palm is nothing compared to those sensitive circuits exposed and begging to be abused.  What a fun time we are about to have dear Roddy, what a fun time indeed.  Maybe I should have left his audials open to hear what’s happening around him, but it’s always fun to try something new. 

 _Thwack!_ The first hit of many to come lands solidly over that infuriating logo on his chest.  You do a good job of not moving, for now.  How long is this going to last.

 _Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_ That infuriatingly emboldened logo makes such a beautiful and easy target to aim for.  But still he remains steadfast in his position.  He will crumble, he always crumbles.  The noise of his fluids hitting the cold floor complete music to my ears.  I cannot wait to make use of that delicate valve of his, but it’s all a part of the game.

A change in pace will do wonders, a slow drag of the keeper of my beautiful crop down that gorgeous torso gives him little to imagine about where its next intended destination will be.  A mech with less resolve wouldn’t hesitate to try to close his legs to prevent any sort of hit to the sensitive arrays between ones thighs.

 _Thwack!_  The first hit to the inside of his right thigh.  Still no reaction, I might have to switch over to a rod.  But that’s not really playing fair, but since when does a Decepticon ever play fair.  Another hit to the same spot and a noise finally crackles through his vocal processor, but still no movement.  What a long way you’ve come, you used to melt at just a single hit. 

Maybe another, more unfair tactic will work.  A light tap to his still capped off spike elicits a high whine from that beautifully open mouth.  His glossa has long since given up on trying to prevent the drool from falling all over himself.  That’s a glossa I’ll put to good use later.  Careful movements sinfully move the keeper of my crop beautifully south from his capped off spike housing to the anterior node resting above that weeping valve.  It’s swollen cluster a bundle of sensitive array endings that are such an amazingly beautiful hub of pleasure.  A noise caught somewhere between fear and pleasure escaping that beautifully gaped house as the my keeper slowly circles atop that beautiful node.

  _Thwap!_  His statuesque figure finally breaking and a strangled noise ripping from his vocalizer. 

 _Thwap!_   Another hit to that beautiful node and his thighs make the first motion to try to close on themselves to protect that sensitive little hotspot.  A few more strikes and he’ll be nothing but a blubbering obedient mess tethered to my ceiling.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.  Ten strikes to that beautiful little node.  His legs threatening to shut, barely maintaining his posture.  If not for being tethered to the ceiling he would have gone face first into my floor a klik or two ago.

The moans and mewls coming from that open mouth easily disguised the sound of my own interface panel snapping open.  My spike is almost already fully pressurized and it’s only just released.  A smell of new lubricant hitting my olfactory sensors.

::Glossa:: I watch as he slowly collects himself enough to steady himself and stick his glossa out as far as he could muster.  His helm now in both of my hands, bringing him close to my interface array.  Close enough his moans tell me he can smell my own lubricant.  He has my complete focus, any movements on his behalf without explicit permission and he’s rewarded with another punishment.  I can never tell anymore if I want you to stay still or break the rules.  I get pleasure either way.  It’s all your decision my Prime.

 _Smack!_  His head snapped abruptly to the right upon impact.  You could have had a taste, but you reached my beautiful Prime.

 _Smack!_   You know better then to move without permission.  Even if it’s to return to a previous position.  He must have learned his lesson, his head remaining to the side from my second blow.  What a petulant child at times, for someone bearing the Matrix he is still such a sparkling at spark.  Such a nice change of pace from someone like Megatron who never really knew true freedom and never got to be a sparkling.  Their differences really help them co-captain this ship in a good complimentary fashion.

Spreader bar.  That’s what I want.  I want a spreader bar and a paddle.  I can’t help but be amazed from time to time how often I find myself at my wall of toys without even realizing that I had moved over there.  A large spreader bar, two smaller lengths of cable, and a nice solid paddle.  Was this for his punishment or enjoyment?  Sometimes the lines between punishment and pleasure get blurred, but that’s the nature of our relationship isn’t it?

A small whine from behind me catches my attention.  I’m used to his whines, but this one sounds different for some reason.  Ah, disappointment.  He feels as if he’s disappointed me.  If only you could see my face Roddy, you would find my smirk strong as ever.  You’ve given me exactly what I want.  A reason to correct your behavior.  A reason to punish you.  A reason to pleasure you.  A reason to claim you and remind you once again who you belong to.

::Do not move:: Warning my pets before doing something different is usually good practice.  However catching them unaware from time to time is always fun.  But he already feels as if he’s disappointed me enough, a small warning gives reassurance that I have not forsaken him for his transgressions.

A quick nudge from my foot to the inside of his ankles tells him to spread his legs even further for me and another quick tap lets him know when he’s spread them far enough for my liking.  His field swimming with self-loathing, still that hint of panic, but overall an air of submission and pleasure lets me know what he is feeling.  His field is always so open, it always makes my job easier.  Less guess work unlike some of my other delicious deviants.

His submission makes this process so much faster.  Such a good Prime he is, willing to serve his fellow Cybertronians without hesitation or question.  So eager to please, to be liked, to make himself needed.  A simple single column tie around his ankle will make a good solid foundation to attach the spreader bar too.  Maybe I should get a second one to place between his knees.  No, that would require too much work, and having to remove his leg bindings to replace.  This will have to do for now, for next time however.  I adore a good single column tie, almost as much as a bowline or a square knot.  Safe, simple, and effective.  Ties I’ve done so often I could easily do them with my optics off at this point.

Both ankles done a quick square knot secures each end of the spreader bar to their respective points on each ankle.  Now, do I need to release that dragonfly armbinder for a full suspension rig or improvise?  I always have a plan, but this mech always seems to derail my plan.  Much like his co-captaining, it never goes according to plan.  But somehow it always ends up working in the end.  Always gets the job done.

This is where things always get complicated.  Where’s my fragging stepstool again.  Frag these slagging tall ceilings.  There.  In the corner.  Small moments like these make me relieved that my pet is blindfolded and unable to hear anything.  He doesn’t need the satisfaction of my grumbling and humiliation at needing a fragging stepstool or having to drag that piece of slag over to reach up to the ceiling.

If I wasn’t so fragging short, it would make some things much easier.  On second thought, I don’t want to release that armbinder, that should stay.  I can just place him on his back  and secure the spreader bar to the ceiling hook with the anchor points being the eyehooks on either side of the bar itself.  This will do nicely. 

::I’m going to release your arms now, you may lower your arms once I release the knot but do not move otherwise:: It’s rude to abruptly change a sub’s position so drastically without notifying them in some way.  Especially if they’re not expecting such a huge change.  Communication, communication, communication.  

 _Clang!_   Well, so much for that warning working.  I didn’t think that he wouldn’t at least try to stop the freefall.  But at least he didn’t flinch, so there’s that.  Unfortunately.

Back to task.  Thread the new length of cable through my ceiling hook, hop off my fragging step stool, kick it back into the corner where it belongs.  Good.  Good, good, good.  I’ll see about adding a few extra hooks for a full body suspension later this deca-cycle.

::Flip onto your back.  Now.” The hesitation was there for a moment before he figured out how to roll over without completely crashing to the floor.   Next he would have to figure out how to roll onto his back comfortably with his arms still bound behind his back.  He’s a smart mech, he’ll figure it out.  However, that spreader bar is definitely giving him less maneuverability then he anticipated.  How cute.

Ah!  There we go.  That’s what I’m looking for.  Such a smart mech he is.  His arms will be most comfortable directly underneath the weight of his torso.  For now.

He looked prettier on his knees, but his knees won’t do for what I have planned for him next.  I want better access to that delightfully swollen valve.  Time to ruin that beautiful paint job he’s always so proud of.  Time to take off a little bit of shine from that polish.  It’ll give me something to do afterwards.

 _Shhiingk._ Panic erupting over his field momentarily.  Then followed by irritation.  So he picked up on his paint and finish being ruined by me dragging his restrained frame across the floor.  I guess maybe if I had left his optics uncovered he would have been able to position himself in the proper spot without having to be dragged.  Nah, I would have still found some reason to drag his heavy aft around.

Did I remember to remove that extra length of rope that was tethering his arms to the ceiling previously?  Yes, I did.  I’ve done this so many times it feels like I’m in autopilot sometimes.  I just go through the motions without having to put much processing towards the actions anymore.  That has it’s pros and cons at times, sometimes I feel like I’m missing steps.  But at the same time, it’s nice that those processes work on a subconscious routines now letting me focus on the big plan.  But I do miss those small details at times.  Something to consider.

Keep these small motions out of my subconscious routines.  I want to enjoy every last astrosecond.  A simple running overhand knot from one end of the rope into the eyehook for the right side of the spreader bar with finished with a spiral half stitching should keep it comfortably secured and provide a stable anchor point.  Five spiral half stitching knots should be more than adequate.  Now the fun part, the right side is secure but he’s still on the ground.  I might have to drag over that fragging step stool again to secure him while I secure the other side.  Frag it all.  I need the fragging stepstool.  Again.

This fragging stepstool.  I hate this piece of slag.  Once again I’m dragging this hunk of slag over to where my plaything was waiting so patiently.  He can be such a good mech sometimes, othertimes he can be such a petulant little sparkling.  I wonder which one I want more from him.

One, two, three.  Hoist!  A small grunt as only his right side gets lifted in the air.  Come on, reach, reach slag it.  There!  Way too much effort to hook my toe around a leg of that stepstool.  Dragging that fragging piece of slag to place under his gorgeous aft to support him long enough to tie off the other side.  For such a slim frame, he holds a good chunk of weight.  That’s the problem with groundpounders, their vehicles aren’t designed to be lightweight which is necessary for those of us lucky enough to grace the skies with our presence.  Of course he’s also designed for up close and personal combat, a frame such as mine is definitely not something to really be up close with.  Distance is far better.

This is always something that most beings don’t think about.  Subs tend to go into a special subspace, a state of mind where their only concern is to please whoever their master is.  Doms like myself, our only concern is whoever is lucky enough to be our sub.  They are the ones who truly hold all the power.  Everything is a thin illusion, held together by what they want and need.  They know the rules as intimately as we.  Simple words like no or stop don’t hold any true power.  That’s what a safeword is for.  I get to continue for as long as he wants this to continue.  Those are the rules.  Rules are either meant to be broken, or to be followed.  The sub gets to choose which rules to break, and which rules to follow.  Doms are always meant to follow rules.  We make the rules, we don’t break them.  Our power is just an illusion, an illusion set forth for mutual pleasure.

Focus Turbo, focus.  You’re derailing again.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, attach the free end of the cable to left side of the spreader bar.  Finish up with some more spiral half stitching to keep it in place.  Can’t let him down just yet, need a smaller length of cable to complete some spiral half stitching at the top near my ceiling hook so he stays secure and level.  I need him straight for what’s next.

At least I had the peace of processor to leave enough step stool poking out that I can use it to reach the ceiling again.  Barely.  Anyways, tie the slack together with a simple slip knot and then continue downwards with some more spiral half stitching to create a single point for the weight instead of relying on him to maintain an equal weight balance.  Which come a few kliks I’m positive he’ll be completely unable to maintain that level of equal weight distribution.  But that could be a fun game in the future to try.  Keep that one in the databases for later.

The fun part about this is that when I’m finished, his aft should be completely lifted off the stepstool and all I must do is slide it out from underneath him.  Continuing to tie the two sides of the cable attached to the spreader bar together has a few benefits.  It will keep him level and secure, but with each spiral half stitch it slowly raises him bit by bit off the stepstool.  I may be tiny, but everyone always underestimates my actual strength.

Stepping down from my corner of a step stool I kick it back into the corner once again where it will stay until we’re finished this time.  I find myself standing back from him now and looking at him in all his beautiful glory.  Purple cable suspending him from the ceiling.  More keeping his legs bent, ankles secured towards his aft.  Spreader bar keeping his legs deliciously spread, his systems continuously pumping a nice steady flow of lubricant to his swollen valve.  Arms still beautifully bound behind his back now falling lazily away from his body resting on the ground before him.  The purple of the cable contrasting perfectly with his burning paint scheme.

Partially suspended, aft off the ground, spike still contained, valve exposed.  I could go with a lovely valve clamp, or a delicious vibrating egg, or both.  I think both is a very good option.  That’s definitely going to be my next move, the combination of pain and pleasure will easily bring my stunning Prime to an overload.  That’s exactly what I want, excellent.

Walking back over to my wall to collect a simple vibrating egg soon to be trapped in that delicious valve by the pleasure of a valve clamp screwed to contain the artful orange and red mesh of his delectable valve.  After an overload or two I won’t be able to contain myself before getting my glossa all in that.  It’s moments like these that test not only the limits of my pet, but also that of myself.  Just as they must obey their master, I must not give into my desires prematurely.

Now it is my turn to be on my knees before the being before me.  How many individuals have been on their knees pledging their loyalty to you, my Prime.  How many of them believe in the power of the Matrix that you carry in your chest.  How many of them follow the Matrix instead of yourself.  I wonder.  The smell of lubricant even heavier in the air as I bring myself closer to the valve before me.  I can’t help but revel in the fact that this, no he, he’s all mine.

My hand to him, a gentle caress of his valve, then a plunging of one digit into the soft delicious folds of that exquisite valve.  The moan escaping his lips nearly takes my own breath away.  A second finger, slowly pumping in and out of that slick and warm valve.  A slight crook of my fingers toward his stomach to hit those ceiling nodes along and a quickened pace is all that’s needed to stretch his valve enough and prepare for the intrusion of the egg that will soon be stuck mercilessly vibrating inside. 

The amazing rippling feeling from his calipers clamping down around my fingers was heavenly.  A few more pumps and he would be overloading.  Without explicit permission.

 _Mnnnnnghh!_ The beautiful strangled yell from his vocal processer tearing past those strong lips held open by the O-ring.  That’s what I’m looking for, music to my audials.

::You didn’t ask permission, Rodimus:: Another strangled whine escaping.  His intakes working furiously to compensate the aftershocks of an overload.  His chest plating separating at each heaving intake and release of air to help further cool his systems down.  The aftershocks of his calipers still spasming around my fingers for a while longer.

Back on my pedes again, I want a paddle this time.  That glorious aft is just begging to be punished for his transgressions.  He knows the rules.  I want a studded paddle, always purple.  It’ll ruin his finish, scratch his paint, and hurt like the pit.  But, lessons need to be learned and paint can always be redone.

This, this is the one I want.  This is the one he needs.  If the backs of his thighs were accessible I would tear them up too, but his aft will have to suffice.  At least this time. 

 _Smack!_ “Primus in the pit!” I do this every single fragging time.  I test it out on my hand, and I always regret it.  My hands are so sensitive, second to my wings.  But Primus in the pit why do I do this every slagging time?  I should know better by now, because now not only am I going to have to fix his paint and finish, but I’m going to have to handle my hand as well now too.  Maybe I can con him into fixing it for me.  Ha, con, Decepticon.  That’s a good one, I’ll remember that one for later.

 _Prrrrrrrrrrr_.  The sound of my engine reverberating off the walls of my lair in anticipation for this next part are borderline deafening. 

 _Click_.  The sound of my coolant pump engaging.  Why did it take so long?  My interface panel retracted kliks ago, it should have engaged by now.  Maybe I should go see Ratchet after this session.  I do tend to avoid medics.  I hate medbays.  I’m getting sidetracked, again.  I need to stop letting my mind wander, it’s the least I owe my Hot Rod.

 _Thwack!  Thwack!  Thwack!  Thwack!_ Music to mu audials.  His vocal processor giving off noises of static and strangled noises.  I love it when he gets like this, watching him unravel before my optics.

 _Thwack!_   Leave it there, don’t move it Turbo.  Leaving the paddle there after the hit always leaves a stronger stinging sensation.  Just a few more hits and he should get the picture.  Primus, he’s so gorgeous when he’s struggling to maintain control.  When he’s unraveling.  When he’s submitting.  These are the moments that I perform to drink in.  These are the moments I enjoy the most.

Putting my servo on his aft, it’s extremely warm to the touch now.  His cooling systems kicked on a long time ago.  Almost as soon as I started restraining him.  I’m going to have to buff out those scratches later big time.  Might have to completely repaint his aft after this session, and he knows it too.

::Beg for it:: The whine that passed through those lips was to die for.  He knows how to ask for it.  He knows what he has to do.

His pride all but forgotten, I watch as he loses the battle with himself and starts bucking his hips as much as the restraints will allow him.  How beautiful, like the pupae of some earth critter trying to warn off a predator.  But no matter what, this predator is going to eat him alive.  And I’m going to enjoy every, last, moment.

My servo back on his valve, the lubricants have been dripping so steadily.  They’re running down his aft, and in between transformation seams now.  I should be on my knees for this part.  I’m going to enjoy every last bit of fluid he has to give.

 _Nnnnnnn._   His whine at my extakes blowing hot air over his valve adding more fuel to the fire of my lust.  He knows what to expect, he knows what’s coming next.  Dragging my glossa slowly over the mesh of his valve I hear his intakes hitch.  Yes, good.  The delicious metallic taste coating my glossa and filling my mouth.  Next, I need to make sure that I hit those transformation seams, drive him absolutely wild.  My glossa tracing those transformation seams from his interface panel, down the seams along the inside of his right thigh, tracing back up to follow the seams down the inside of his left thigh. 

The rumbles of pleasure from his engines and the heating of his plates.  The low whines from behind his gaping mouth.  My left hand dipping lazily to my own open array and wrapping around my pressurized spike.  Some transfluid that spilled from my tip provides enough lubricant to lazily stroke myself.  My mouth back over his valve, long wide strikes from the base to the top.  Don’t hit that node. 

Base to top, base to top, base to top all in time with my own personal strokes.  Base to tip, base to tip, base to tip.  His engines starting to go from rumble to whine.  He wants this, he needs this.  The charge in his EM field starting to go off the charts.  Overload imminent.

::Hold it::

 _Nnnnnnnghhhh!_   You can hold it Rod.  I know you can, you’ve done this many times before.  Suffer through a little more pleasure, then you’ll have your release.  Your very well deserved release.  Base to top, base to top, base to top.  Find the anterior node.  A quick flick of my glossa over that beautiful node, charge steadily building in that field.  Small circles around that node with my glossa and the whine of his engines apparent.

::Now::

 _Mmmnnnghhhh!_ Overload roaring through his systems.  Engine whining.  The ripple of his mesh.  The release of static charge and overwhelming feeling of lust in his EM field.  These are the moments I live for with you Roddy.  I aim to please you.  You are mine, but I am as much yours as you are mine.  There you go my beautiful flame, no time to ride it out.

Back to work.  I want you an incoherent mess.  Glossa back to work on those beautiful folds.  Long flat strokes, more pressure this round.  No time to cool off, I want these to rip through you with the force of Megatrons fusion cannon.  Base to top, base to top, base to top.  Feel the static charge in his EM Field.  Position myself higher, dip my glossa in between the folds to hit the lowest node inside those silky folds.  And, suction.  Start applying gentle suction around that anterior node while my glossa lazily goes in and out between the folds flicking that gorgeous node on its way out of those folds.

 _Annnh.  Annnh.  Annnnnnnnhh._ Patience, don’t let it go yet.  Be good, keep waiting.  The sounds of my mouth working on his valve coupled with his strangled whines.  A less disciplined being would give in to their own personal desires before taking care of their client.  Vorns of practice and an almost uncountable number of clients is clearly paying off for the mech unraveling before my optics.

::Again::

 _Aaaaannnggh!_ His third overload of the evening roaring through his frame again.  Another release of static charge through his EM Field.

 _Hhhh, hhhh, hhh._  His frame heaving in between inventing and exventing air to try to further cool his systems down. 

 _Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr_.  His internal fans whining to keep up with the third overload.  His systems are going to go absolutely off the charts with the next one.  My glossa hasn’t stopped working on his valve yet.  I want number four.  He wants number four.  He’s so high energy, and it takes so much to satisfy him.  But every klik is worth it with him.

Change of tactics.  Leaving my spike alone my glossa focuses on circling his delectable anterior node to make space for my digits to enter his valve once more.  Slowly Turbo, slowly.  Let him agonize over the insanely slow stretch.  Make him whine.

 _Nnnnnn_.  The delicious whine of wanting more.  Such greed, but it’s a good thing because his valve is just as greedy as his lust.  I need one more overload before I finally give you the grand finale my flame.  Okay, maybe with those noises two more.

Sinking my first digit back into that valve of his I’m making sure my glossa remains lazily stimulating that anterior node.  In and out, in and out, in and out.  Just a few times until he gets used to the stretch of a single digit, then add a second.  Another whine ending in a groan coming from my suspended Autobot.  In and out, in and out, in and out.  Now a third.  Three digits lazily pumping in and out of his extremely well lubricated valve.  Maybe I can talk him into trying some fisting.  He might go for that, he is quite the size king at times.  Conversation for a later day.  Focus on the now.

Make sure my fingers gently curl upwards to hit the ceiling nodes of his valve, and apply more pressure with my glossa.  Firm strips up and down that anterior node with my glossa along with slight suction.  Slowly, lazily, meticulously.  Wait to see him fight himself to buck those hips to create a rhythm of his own.  He wants it, bad.

More pressure with my glossa, pick up the pace with my servo.  In and out, in and out, in and out.  Steadily picking up the pace.  Come on Rod, hold it together.  Keeping my glossa in time to my servo, making sure pressure is a constant. And, now!

::One more for me::  I barely finish the com before his scream rips through my room at this overload.  Each one building more and more then the last one.  Each one more and more intense.  Each one more and more draining.

Keep up the pace Turbo, don’t give him a moment to rest.  In and out, in and out, in and out.  Focus Turbo, focus.  Our EM fields clashing with one another.  His a healthy mix of pleasure, lust, and need slowly bleeding into my own.  What is a mix of dominance, control, and lust of my own.  Rip one more out of him before giving it all for the grand finale.  Just a little bit more, he’s so close.  Last one Rod, last one.  Make it count.

::Again::

 _Aaaaaaannnghh! Nnngh!  Nnn!_ You’re so gorgeous like this.  Unraveled, losing control, at my mercy.  Some aboard the ship wouldn’t be caught at the mercy of hands such as mine.  Too proud, too dominant themselves, or still holding a grudge against Decepticons.  You’ve earned a handsome reward.

Reaching over for the vibrating egg on the floor beside me now is the perfect time to try this one out.  Make sure it’s well lubricated, run that egg over the folds of his valve until it’s nice and slick.  Then it just pops right in between those folds.  Make sure the antenna sticks out from between those folds so I can use the remote without any difficulties. 

Next is the valve clamp.  This sometimes takes some persuasion, especially when there’s so much lubricant involved.  This device can be quite tricky, but its discomfort is delicious.  Holding the clamp over his already swollen valve, just need to pull the outermost flesh through the clamps on either side of the device.  Then just twist the thumbscrews tight to trap those beautiful mesh folds of his.  This is a device he’s never experienced before, and his whines are absolutely maddening.  Wait until I turn on the wonderful little egg buried in his valve.

Transfer back onto my pedes.  My knees are killing me, how do my subs handle those positions for so long?  Oh that’s right, I don’t give them the choice to move.  Sidetracked again, I need to stop derailing my thoughts sometimes.

Anyways, where was I.  Oh yeah!  Remote control.  Vibrations.  To my perch!  It’s moments like these that it’s most enjoyable to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Do I want to sit on the chair or the berth?  Chair would be easier for self-pleasure.  Berth is more comfortable.  Do I want to bring myself to overload?  Yes.  Definitely.  Chair it is.

::Do not hold back, you have my permission to overload whenever needed::

Being the dominant is about being entirely in control.  Over everything.  The sub, the environment, oneself.  Everything.  I can’t believe how hard I Just planted my aft in this chair though.  If he didn’t have audial plugs in place right now he would have clearly heard my rookie mistake.  See what he does to me?  This is embarrassing, a rookie mistake.  See what you do to me my flame?  Simple things get forgotten in the presence of your gorgeous flame.

Remote.  Turn it on.  The mix of pain and pleasure should easily drag him over the edge countless times until I can’t take it anymore and spike him myself.  Ultimately that’s what he wants and will ultimately be what I want as well.  After your pleasure of course, my Prime.

 _Click_.  The lowest setting of the egg buried in his valve roars to life.  His frame visibly flinching in a mix of pleasure and surprise at the sudden new sensation.  The lowest setting is the easiest to handle.  Vibrations are also a new things for him to experience.  But he will learn, and he will learn fast.  With, what is it now, five?  Yes, five previous overloads, I don’t think he’ll last very long.

 _Aaaanngh!_ Ah, there it is.  Number six.  Transfluid starting to drip out of my spike like crazy at his pleasure.  In power play moves in the past I’ve tasted my own transfluid to create a sense of jealousy and want out of my subs.  But they can usually either hear or see me.  This is not one of those instances, so I’ll just easy my throbbing spark a bit and take off some edge.

While he’s entertained with the vibrating egg deep within those delicious folds of his, I’ll entertain my own spark.  But the most amazing part is that he couldn’t try to expel that egg even if he tried, that delicious valve clamp keeps that egg in its proper place.  But also applying a constant painful pleasure of stimulation.  Something by beautiful Prime has learned to accept.  Pain is pleasure, and pleasure is pain.  The two are not mutually exclusive.

Servo on my spike once again, more pressure and a steady constant stroke.  Another push and the vibrations ramp up eliciting another strangled noise from his vocalizer.  His pain is my pleasure.  His pleasure is my pleasure.  He serves to please, I live to please.  A beautiful relationship.  Another overload ripping through his system while I continue to stroke my own spike.  Ramping up the pace, faster, faster, faster, faster.

A little bit more, yes!  My own overload ripping through my system.  My first one of the evening.  My cooling vents kicking into even higher gear, energon pumping through my lines, invents and exvents heaving as an attempt to cool off my systems further.  The splattering of transfluid hitting my abdomen and chest in time with my lazier strokes.  My EM field filled with relief.  Triggering yet another overload of the individual in front of me.  Excellent.  Number seven.

One more my Prime, one more and then I shall give you a grand finale worthy of your title Prime.  Hitting the button on my remote once more the egg clicks into yet another gear, even higher still.  He won’t last long before his next overload.  By the time I’m finished with him I’ll have to force him into the washracks and force him to stay online for the aftercare.  Perfect.

 _Nnnnn.  Nnnnaaaghhhhh!_   That final overload ripping through his systems.  Him just a panting mess at this point.  I’m not sure he could communicate even if he tried.  Time for the grand finale.

Ugh, transfluid is so fragging sticky.  It just clings to everything and gets in between all your seams without any difficulty.  Let’s finish this one up and get us both into the washracks.

His systems running hot.  If he thinks they’re running hot now, wait until this last one.  A small click and the magnetic spike seal was removed.  His spike pressurizing almost instantly at its removal.  His spike is quite the work of art, as much detail into his spike as he has on the rest of his frame.  The same beautiful red that adorns his frame coloring the belly of his spike while the top matches the orange he sports.  Next removing that tortuous valve clamp and stimulating egg.  Just put those to the side to clean and put away later.

Now on my knees before him once more, and the final time of the evening, I can’t help but feel my own excitement at what is next.  Now he’ll take my spike in full until we both overload for one final time.  Guiding my spike with my left servo I place the tip at the entrance to his dripping valve.  A whine from him at what he’s expecting, and one solid push from me and I’m fully sheathed inside that warm, soft, pulsating spot between his legs.  Servos gripping that spreader bar for leverage and using the cable suspending him partially to the ceiling, I’ll let physics take over some of the work.  Giving yield to all want on my own end I let instinct take over and rock my hips at a maddening pace.  Fast, rough, but still guided enough to make sure that I hit all those pleasurable nodes.

 _Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!_ The sounds of our two forms hitting each other at every intrusion of my spike being fully encased in his valve coupled with the strangled noises of pleasure from his vocalizer doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of control.  Quickening the pace, I reach an overload hard and fast.  Him right there along with me.  My transfluid spilling into his gestation chamber with his own transfluid spilling out onto his own form in time with my pumping spike.  Olfactory sensors picking up heavy ion rich atmosphere from our overloads.  His frame insanely hot from his eight overload of the evening, steam filing out between transformation seams.  Steam of my own also escaping where it could.  Both our frames heaving between invents and exvents.  Letting my spike remain in his valve feeling the last after ripples of his calipers clamping down around my spike is one of my favorite feelings with him.

I need a moment before pulling out my spike, taking him down and moving to aftercare.  Each of our sessions has been escalating more and more.  Overloads getting more and more intense each time around.  Such a beautiful relationship we’ve formed here.

Pulling myself out I manage to get to my feet.  I need that fragging stepstool once more.  Why are these ceilings so fragging high again?  I’d say I’m going to complain to whoever’s in charge around here, but.  Well.  Both get invited into my quarters quite frequently for sessions.

Back on the stepstool I am, time to undo the spiral half stitching allowing my Prime to slowly descend until he’s resting on our now shared stepstool.  Toss the cable to the side, I’ll wrap it up and take care of it later.  Back off the stepstool it’s quick to remove the square knots that kept him in the air suspended from the hook in the ceiling.  Now, I need him to be aware of what’s going on now.  He’s spent enough time in the dark and silence this evening. 

Behind his head unbuckle that gag that’s been in his mouth.  Demagnetize the audial plugs.  Finally remove his blindfold to reveal those beautiful blue optics.  Even when off they still hold a gorgeous blue hue to them.

“Come on now, open your optics dear” watching his optics online to their bright blue hue.  Amazing.  Blue meeting my red.  Funny, those two colors combined make purple, obviously the two of us are meant to be a Decepticon pairing.

“You did so good my Prime.  So, so good.”

“I aym to pleash”

“Your jaw hurt?  Is your vocalizer raw?  Do I need to com Ratchet for you?” I love his slurred speech after having a gag in his mouth for so long.

“Vewy funny Tee”

“Let’s finish getting you down and to the washracks.  Plus, I think I owe you a new paintjob.”

Making work out of the remaining cables will be easy.  Undo the short cable lengths keeping the spreader bar in place.  Undo the simple double knot that kept the leg binding in place, unwrap each comma knot, and then finally unravel each of the six wraps around his leg until I get to the original bite.  Simple undoing of the bite and his left leg is free.

“One down, two to go.”

“Yesh mayam”

“You’re cute when you speak like that.  Maybe I should keep you tied up and take care of you like a helpless sparkling”

“Not my kink Tee”

“Yet” laughter.  His laughter joining in mine.  He’s still such a sparkling at spark, it’s such a thing of beauty.  I love the aftercare with him.  He’s always holding up a persona that’s about him, him, him, him, him.  But that’s not true.  He cares far too much about what others think about him, he worries about his crew not liking him.  And he always makes sure that I’m not disappointed during our sessions.  If I’m not satisfied though, he’s not either.  So maybe he is a bit selfish in that sense.

“Come on, on your aft.  As sore and raw as it might be after that beating you earned.  Let’s get your arms undone then we can go hit the washracks.”

“Wha if ay jus roll onto my schtomach?”

“And give me a nice free shot to your aft again?  That’s up to you.” No argument back as he sat up off the ground.

“And here I was hoping you would give me another shot at that aft of yours” his grumbles just bringing more laughter from my audial.

“Seriously though, you were amazing this time.  I could have sworn you were going to com me to stop on a few occasions.  But you held in there extremely well.  You’ve earned a nice cube of engex, a hot shower, and I promise I’ll fix your paint and finish and make it good as new.”

 _Mmmmmmmm._ The hum of his engines as they cool off giving me all the signs of contempt that I need.

Slag, I did it again.  Autopiloted through removing the arm bindings.  I need to stop letting those run through subconscious routines. 

“Ready Roddy?  Let’s go hit the washracks, we’re both kind of sticky.”

“Don call me Roddy.  Ay don like it.”

“You’re cute when you pout.  But for real, let’s get you and myself cleaned off.”

“Fine.”  My servo extended down to him, it’s time to drag him up to go hit the washracks.  He grasps my extended servo with his own and I hoist him back onto his pedes.  He’s still a much taller frame than my own.  But, they say size matters.  I strongly disagree there.

“Hey Ro-“ his mouth on mine.  Such a bold move from him.  His mouth hot and warm over mine, possessive almost.  Warm glossa slipping between my denta, now fighting with my own glossa.  An aggressive move for someone who’s supposed to be my submissive.  What the pit, I’ll let him have his moment here.  I feel a servo of his wrap around my waist pulling me in closer, his mouth pressing into mine harder.  I can feel my lip plates starting to dent from the force he’s applying.  What an interesting turn of events, he’s always been one to catch me off guard and surprise me, a bit defiant at times.  Point and case where we currently are.  Ah, there he goes.  Finally pulling away.

“Well now, that was unexpected.  What was that all about?”

“Ay mished your mouf”

“Hmm, well I’ll keep that in mind next time.  You’re lucky we’re not still in session or you would have a price to pay.  And that paint job takes a while to fix.”

“Whatefer you shay”

“Let’s go hit the washracks.  We’ll discuss more later.”

“Yesh mayam”


End file.
